iPod Challenge RHPS Style, Take Two!
by BritLuvr
Summary: I couldn't help myself... Collie/Frank again, somehow I got less twisted songs. Ratings should vary but M for safety. :3


_The same flavor you loved before, now with mini-titles!_

Shuffle Challenge Rules  
><strong>1.<strong> Pick a fandom/couple/crossover you like.  
><strong>2.<strong>Turn on your music player and put it on random (aka: shuffle).  
><strong>3.<strong>Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it ends.  
><strong>4.<strong> No lingering afterwards. No cheating.  
><strong>5.<strong>Do 10 of these and post them.

_Okay, so…I probably shouldn't be trying this again…but I can't help myself! Frank/Collie again, maybe I'll do another pairing if I can get a grip on other characters, IDK.  
>Hopefully soon to come? Some OC's me and my brilliant co-author ("Behind the Mask", go read eet!) cooked up for yet another RHPS FF!<em>

"**The Point Of No Return", Emmy Rossum and Gerard Butler  
>Passion Was Her Only Answer<br>** Columbia bit her lip, staring uncertainly at the delectable man in the bed before her. If she did this, if she really went through with this…well, this was the point of no return. If she slept with this man, this _god_ on earth, she would never go back to being the same. Columbia the insatiable groupie would cease to exist, becoming an entirely new entity, one entirely devoted to the strange doctor before her.  
>Her stomach knotted up as she slowly removed her clothes, <em>very<em> aware of how his eyes ate her up. Her cheeks burned, brighter than her hair now, as she flung the clothes to the floor and slowly, with all the nerves of a virgin, crawled onto the bed net to him.  
>Columbia was no stranger to sex, but this, she knew, was very different from every other lay she'd ever had. From the moment when his painted lips melted over her's, she was a goner. She knew life would never be the same, love would never be the same, and she wanted it. Badly.<br>He turned over her on the bed, pressing gently against her as lips trailed over her collarbone, lower, to her navel, and lower still, to the damp proof of her lust. He devoted every attention to detail, tasting every piece of her body before finally putting himself within it, silently melding their two bodies into one.  
>Tears filled her eyes, not from pain, but from love. She loved the man above her, this she didn't doubt. She loved him with all the fury of a thousand white-hot stars.<br>"Say you love me," she sighed, resting her chin on his sweat-slick chest when their erratic breathing had slowed. He chuckled, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. "Please."  
>With a smirk, he leaned forward, kissing her gently, a quick swipe of the lips that quickly became something a lot more passionate.<br>Despite her boundless energy, Columbia had never gone more than one round with a man. That night, she found out it was possible to orgasm more than once, more than twice, more than thrice, even! The passionate night wore her out, to the point where she never noticed his lack of response. It felt like his love-making was enough for her.  
>And maybe it was.<p>

"**Domino", KISS  
>When She Was Wild<br>** She walked down the street, knowing girls would kill to be in her shoes. She was thin, she was beautiful; she was wild, she was loved; she got all the rock, the sex, the booze, the drugs, that she could ever possibly want. Short brown hair dyed red, eyes that glinted with cold amusement. She was a different person from everyone else on earth, and she knew it.  
>She was perfect. She was a Domino.<br>He smirked, watching her carefully and discreetly from his beat-up truck. She was everything he needed in a playmate, full of energy and fire and unlike anyone else in this town. She would more than do, and he knew it. And he wanted it.  
>It was raining, the night he picked her up.<br>"Need a lift, baby?"  
>She had turned to him, ready to tell him off…only to melt a little and climb into the cab. That night, he saw another side of this wild card, a shy but fiery thing, a thing he wanted just as bad.<br>And he got her. All of her.  
>She's a different woman now. Younger-acting, more energetic, less mature. Less of a wild card. Less of a rocker.<br>Not that he minds.

"**I Just Wanna", KISS  
>Frustration<br>** Columbia pouted at the ceiling of her tiny room, frustrated. Frankie had gotten so involved in that damn "project" of his, he started to ignore her! HER! His fucking groupie!  
>But she'd have her revenge…and she'd relieve her frustration…maybe all at once!<br>Finding him wasn't hard: A wannabe greaser, a biker with a real rock-n-roll attitude, dumb enough not to be a problem, smart enough to recognize a professional groupie when he saw one.  
>She lured him out that night, took him a motel, and screwed his brains out. Frankie would've been proud.<br>Only Frankie still wasn't around.  
>So she started seeing him more frequently. Once a week, then twice a week…then, she was certain Frankie would never catch them, she started taking him to the castle and screwing him in her bed. It was their secret: Only Magenta was savvy to it, and the older woman rather liked holding something over Frank's head.<br>The night he found out, it was disastrous.  
>She had been on the edge, right on the verge of it, when he burst through the door, whining that he needed some attention. The guy beneath her, Eddie, was sweaty; she was sweaty; but the smile she sent Frank made him too horny to care.<p>

"**La Vie Boheme", The Original Broadway Cast Of RENT  
>Yo, Hoe; Yo, Hoe: A Groupie's Life For Me<br>** Frank smirked, well aware that he was the reason that there such a big scene in the restaurant. At first, Columbia's suggestion that they go out to dinner was ridiculous, and the actual action was more of a way of placating the girl.  
>But now that he was here, he was glad he did it. Everyone was stopping to stare at the brightly dressed couple: The girl in her spandex and sequins and tap shoes, the man in full drag. It was wonderful, and Frank loved all the attention.<br>It wasn't until they were seated that he noticed some particularly tasty young boys were giving Columbia more attention than him. Vaguely unsettled, he turned and flirted with his little groupie, knowing her squeals and giggles were all for him, hoping the boys were jealous.  
>They weren't.<br>"Hey baby…long time, no see," one cheeky young lad purred, coming smoothly up behind them.  
>"Paul!" the groupie shrieked, grabbing his hand. And before Frank knew it, the table was swarming with all sorts of young vagrants, all of them making passes at <em>his<em> playmate! The ingrates wouldn't leave until the food arrived and Columbia sent them away so she could eat.  
>"Well?"<br>"Well what, Frankie?" the red-head responded innocently, playing with the spaghetti-and-meatless-balls on her plate.  
>"What was all that about?" he pouted, stabbing a fork in her direction.<br>"Oh, those were some of the guys from the bands I followed, Frankie. Ain't they the sweetest?"  
>"Did you screw them?" he sniffed, pushing his tofu platter around.<br>She blushed a little, embarrassed by his forthright manner.  
>"Maybe…," she said, only to call in despair at the disgust on his face, "But they don't mean anything ta' me, Frankie! <em>You're<em> the only guy I got eyes for now!"  
>A sudden, delicious idea hit him, lending his face a new smirk.<br>"Can I make it up ta' ya'?" she asked anxiously, staring earnestly up into his face.  
>Leaning slowly forward, he whispered something into her ear, to which she blushed but nodded, rising from her seat.<br>A while later, when the odd couple returned back to their seats, Columbia's face was flushed and she fanned herself uselessly with her napkin. Frank looked quite satisfied with himself, actually, and didn't even mind the other boys who came to the table later on.

"**Leave Out All The Rest", Linkin Park  
>Collie's Nightmare<br>** Columbia woke-up in a cold sweat, tears still streaming down her eyes. Muffling a sob, she quietly exited the room, hoping she hadn't waken her roommate up with her crying.  
>What an awful, awful dream!<br>She went down in the elevator, pillow and blanket still clutched in her white-knuckled hands. It was awful, just horrible, what a terrible dream! And she couldn't help but wonder if he was still there….  
>She wouldn't wake him up, she thought, just peak in on him. On tiptoes, she silently padded to his room and poked her bright red head around the corner, relieved to the messy knot of black curls and the gentle rising and falling of the sheets.<br>She tiptoed back out, love burning bright in her heart. He was there, he was okay, she didn't have to miss him.  
>She slept in the lab that night, and slept better than she had in a long time.<br>Later that night, Frank walked out and, spying her, affectionately patted her head. Silly, sweet girl.

"**Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad", Meat Loaf  
>He Loved Me, He Loved Me Not…<br>** Her crying had finally chased 'Genta out, though she knew she'd eventually regret having no company. But for now, loneliness was a good thing. She put the old CD on, her very first, Meat Loaf's "Bat Out Of Hell". She skipped right to "Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad", laid back down on her bed, and bawled some more.  
>Only Meat Loaf seemed to understand how she felt.<br>It had been weeks of living in the castle, weeks of sleeping with Frankie, and weeks of sleeping without him, before she learned the truth: His special little "project" was a sex-toy-boy, something to replace her with. It broke her heart, and suddenly, with Meat Loaf's soothing voice in the background, she realized it.  
>How many times had Frankie said he wanted her?<br>How many times had he said he needed her?  
>And how many times had he said he loved her?<br>He always wanted, always needed…but never loved. Columbia loved him, devoted herself to him…but she'd never have him. And her heart went from broken to shattered, knowing she could never love again, knowing she was too far past redemption to leave him, but unable to face him.  
>A gentle weight pressed down on the bed beside her, and a long-fingered hand stroked and petted her hair. She let the Texan's remorse voice calm the room, let her own wails and howls and tears fill the air. She let the hands stoke and pet her, let them gentle her, and finally, hysteric tears melted into hiccups.<br>"Thanks, 'Genta," she mumbled, laying her cheek on the woman's fishnetted thigh.  
>"Of course, baby," said the voice above her. Exhausted by now, she drifted to sleep, hardly noticing that the voice had a clipped British accent, not a heavy Transylvanian one.<p>

"**Mr. Roboto", Styx  
>Before Him, She Was A Nothing<br>** Before him, she was a nothing, a nobody. Just some groupie. There were millions of groupies, all over the world, and just because she was an exceptionally good groupie didn't mena she stood out. She was alone, one of many, nothing special. Nothing.  
>But that didn't mean she couldn't feel. She put up a false bravado, especially in Denton. These morons didn't understand anyway, they couldn't. Music didn't mean to them what it did to her. She loved it, it was her life and her passion, something she liked more than sex.<br>And even after him, she loved music more than sex…even sex with him.  
>It was nothing personal, but deep down, she belonged to her first love. Music. Rock-n-roll. It was all she needed.<br>Oh, sure. He took her albums from her, had them hidden, and at times like that, he was her world. But when he slowed down, or left, she was back at them, blasting the music in room and finding ways to tap along to the beat.  
>"<em>Domo arigato, Mister Roboto…"<br>_ Thank you, indeed! Gleefully, she tapped along, lots in the beat and the words and the thought.  
>Before him, she was nothing. Just a groupie. A thing. His plaything, nothing more. She knew this, deep down, somewhere.<br>But she would rather be a nothing before him, flung down at his feet, a new nothing, than a nothing without him, just a groupie again. She could see the stars and the planets and the notes in the air, but only with him. Her music was only truly alive after she had gotten him.  
>And maybe, if she was lucky, the music would keep on living, and he would keep on loving.<p>

"**Spaceship", Raul Esparza and Daphane Rubin-Vega  
>Finally Here, The New Frontier!<br>**_(iPod, you SOB! I finally get an RHPS song and you only give me a minute thirty-four to write it? EVIL!)  
><em> Columbia was blessed, and she knew it.  
>'Genta and Riff were taking her home with them, and with Frank, even though he didn't know it yet! He was a prince there; she'd be a princess! And their home planet sounded so nice…so homey…so would finally have a home, just like she always wanted, one free of monsters and killing and death and all the wretched things of the castle and her former life, except tap dancing and rock-n-roll.<br>Or so she hoped.

"**Dammit Janet", Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon  
>That Cheap Slut!<br>**_(Woo-hoo, iPod! Way to pull through for me! Short, but whatever, took me a while to word it right.)  
><em> Columbia wasn't normally the jealous type. _Normally.  
><em> She had put up with Frankie sleeping with 'Genta…and Riff…and Eddie. She had adjusted to the idea of Rocky. She might have understood it better if he had only slept with that asshole, that Brad guy—at least he was cute.  
>But the fiancée? "Janet"? Why on earth would Frankie sleep with her?<br>That cheap slut! And she _didn't_ mean the girl.  
>How could Frankie do this to her? How was this even possible? What could have possessed him, to make him think to sleep with her, even for one tiny second?<br>Dammit, _she_ was his earthling lover! Her, Columbia! They were meant to be…and now…now he had slept with that awful Janet woman….  
>That cheap slut! Both of them!<p>

"**Alms Alms", Jamie Campbell Bower and Laura Michelle Kelly  
>Empty Pockets<br>**_(Dammit, iPod! I thought we were friends again! ONE MINUTE AND SIXTEEN SECONDS? EEEEEEEEEVILE!)  
><em> Columbia stared glumly over at the bar. Her pockets were empty. Again. Damn, life as a groupie was harder than she thought it would be…selling herself out for booze and bite to eat.  
>Being poor sucked, and being poor <em>and<em> being forced to watch the hottie in all the make-up at the bar wasn't helping any.  
>Maybe he'd buy her a drink, try to pick her up.<br>She certainly wouldn't say no…she was starving, and he was cute!


End file.
